


Unwavering

by emmea12



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:15:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmea12/pseuds/emmea12
Summary: Aurora Cooper wasn't afraid to die. In fact, if she had to die, she prefered that her death benefit the First Order in some way. The First Order apparently felt that way too, because when she'd been reassigned as the General's personal assistant it was made very clear to her that she was unimportant and disposable. She made a vow to put his life before hers always. During a diplomatic trip, the Resistance ambush General Hux's ship and Aurora does her best to keep her promise, but will the General let her?





	Unwavering

     Consistency was something to be admired. Routined efficiency was to be strived for. The predicability of a well oiled machine was to be adored. And oh, how Aurora adored it. 

     Six years as an officer of the First Order had let Aurora discover some things about herself that she only previously speculated on. Mostly, she discovered that she loved military life. It was rigid and planned out like nothing she’d ever known before. She was told what to wear, what to do, and when to do it. There was something freeing about having all of your needs met while all of your energy was available to be used towards furthering a cause so important.

     The two years Aurora was a technician were bliss. She awoke every morning and ate a rationed and well balanced breakfast that honestly tasted like garbage but gave her the vitamins and nutrients needed to stay well enough to serve the First Order as best as she was able. She clocked in a 700 hours and worked until 1800 hours with a small lunch in between. Then it was dinner and then to her quarters for rest.

     She’d excelled quickly and began spending extra time at work off of the clock. It was quickly noticed and soon she was reassigned to be General Hux’s personal assistant after the last one had had an unfortunate run in with Commander Ren. A bloody encounter that no one she asked would willingly talk about aside from nervously stating that she should do her best not to cross the Force user. 

     General Hux was notoriously a difficult man to work for. When Commander Ren wasn’t murdering Hux’s assistants, Hux was tearing them apart himself. Long hours and extremely high expectations caused Hux’s personal assistants to last no more than a few weeks before they were reassigned to sanitation duty after failing Hux in some way. Aurora had been there for four years now against all expectations.

     This morning, Aurora was more tired than she normally would be. The General had forced her to leave the office at around 200 hours even though there was still mountains of work to complete. She walked sleepily down the long hallway toward the door to the general’s office and smiled at the stormtrooper who stood guard, FN-1236. 

     “FN-1236,” Aurora greeted him warmly. “How are you doing this morning?” She asked as she adjusted the files and holopad in her arms.

     “Very well, ma’am,” the Stormtrooper said. She couldn’t tell if the man inside of the armor returned her smile. It was a little unsettling. 

     She shuffled the load in her arms so that she could place her hand on the reader next to the door. She waited for a just a moment for the door to unlock loudly.

     The General’s office was split into two. A glass partition and door separated the smaller portion of the office and the larger one. The smaller part was where Aurora’s desk sat facing the General’s much larger ornate desk on the other side of the partition. On Aurora’s side there was caf cart, and several locked file cabinets. The General was a man of mild paranoia. Even though every document in the First Order was digital and could be pulled up in a matter of seconds on his holopad, there were things he liked to keep on paper. Just in case. Against the partition on Aurora’s side there was also a couch for people to rest while waiting for a meeting with the General, and a bookcase with binders full of protocol explanations. There was nothing personal in the office at all, on either side. They weren’t here for that. The First Order was the most important thing. Anything else felt terribly out of place, and honestly, extremely trivial.

     The General’s side was beautiful, and honestly, he really didn’t have it set up in the most advantageous way. One wall, the one behind his desk was one very large window, looking out into the cosmos. It was breathtaking to Aurora, who, before she joined the First Order, had never been off her home planet. Occasionally, she’d catch the General standing at the window, in parade rest, his hands clasped behind his back and his feet apart, staring out into space. If she were him, she’d find it hard to not turn the desk facing the window so that she could stare out of it all day. But then, maybe no work would ever get done. 

     Between the General’s desk and the glass partition there was a massive conference table made of smooth stainless steel. More often than not, Aurora worked at that table so that it was easier to spread her work out efficiently. If the General minded Aurora being on his side for hours at a time, he never said so.

     This morning felt a little different than most. Firstly, when Aurora walked into the General’s office at 600 hours and the lights turned on, she could tell Hux had already been there this morning, which was odd. She almost always beat him there so that she could make the caf and finalize his itinerary for the day. She didn’t like to keep him waiting. He was a busy man. It was her job to make sure his time was never wasted. She would get there early, and set up his office for the day. The General arrived at around 700 hours, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink and hadn’t eaten for days. That’s when her job really began. 

     Aurora noticed his coat hanging on the hook next to the door which meant he wasn’t too far away. She closed the door behind her and set her papers and holopad on her small desk. The smell of burnt caf led her to the caf cart. Aurora froze when she realized the General had made his own caf. One sip from the half filled cup on the cart made her want to spit it out immediately. “Maker,” she grumbled. She took the pot and poured the disgusting remnants into the sink in the small refresher on her side of the office. She set another pot to brew wordlessly as she moved to the desk and pulled the general’s itinerary out of her folder. 

     She had finished it in her quarters after the general had dismissed her for the evening. There was really no convincing him otherwise when he put his mind to it that it was time for her to leave, no matter how much she argued with him. Sometimes she thought he was trying to get her to argue with him. This forced her to do some work at the small desk in her very small quarters in the dim light of her lamp. 

     She walked wordlessly to the communicator on her desk and dialed the cafeteria. “Hello, can I have the General’s breakfast brought up please? Thank you?” she said politely over the communicator. From the look of his disheveled desk, it appeared he’d been here all night. She glanced at the garbage and found no food wrappers. However, to her amusement, the blanket that usually sat in the bottom drawer of her desk was unfolded and crumpled on the floor as if it had fallen off when someone woke up. At least he had gotten a little sleep.

     “Ma’am,” FN-1236 said from the door. “Captain Phasma for the General.” 

     “Let her in,” Aurora answered and looked up at the clock, 0648 hours. 

     Phasma in all of her tall, strong, chrome glory walked into the office confidently.

     “Good morning, Captain Phasma,” Aurora said sweetly.

     Phamsa nodded, “Good morning, Lieutenant Cooper. I need to speak to the General.” The woman said without any more pleasantries. 

     “Of course, ma’am. Let me look to see when I can schedule you in. Is it urgent?” Aurora picked the blanket up off of the floor and folded it perfectly. Phasma watched Aurora tuck it into her desk and pulled the General’s itinerary across the desk so that she could look for an opening. 

     “I have concerns about the Stormtrooper training protocol. I want to talk to him about adjusting a few things,” Phasma said without the horror in her voice that struck through Aurora when Phasma mentioned the General’s beloved Stormtrooper program. 

     “Captain,” Aurora said hesitantly. Plasma looked right at her, never moving to sit down on the couch. “Do you think that this is really the time?” She said slowly, hoping that the Captain wouldn’t take offense to her insubordination. It wasn’t her place to ask questions or screen the General’s meetings. In fact, he’d probably be highly pissed to know that she had challenged Phasma in this way. But since Starkiller, the General was more stressed than she’d ever seen him. He didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, and he drank a little more than he did before the planet-weapon imploded. 

     Phasma didn’t seem to mind Aurora’s interjection. Sometimes, Aurora thought, that it may be possible for her and the Captain to become friends. They had their undying loyalty to both the First Order and their General in common, and they certainly had a very good working relationship, as the Captain very frequently came to talk to the General. Phamsa was also not as short with Aurora than she was to almost everyone else. 

     “Probably not,” Phasma said quietly. She sat down on the couch shook her helmet ladened head dramatically. “I don’t know if I’m just over cautious after FN-2187, or if real changes need to be made. We can’t afford another mistake like that.” 

     “That traitor’s defection doesn’t say anything about the training he received. I believe he simply had a proclivity to being a snake,” Aurora said soothingly to the obviously upset Captain.“Can I offer you some Caf?” Aurora stood up from her desk and went to the caf cart to make the General’s drink so that it would be ready for him as soon as he came in. 

     “No, thank you,” Phasma said, as Aurora had expected. She’d never seen Phasma take her helmet off, let alone eat or drink. As much as Aurora talked and interacted with Phasma, she was always taken aback by how much she didn’t know about the woman. 

     Both women froze and looked towards the closed door when they hear a commotion in the hallway. 

     “Ren, for god’s sake. It’s _thousands_ of credits. Every time you have an outburst, you tear a part of my ship to pieces, It’s ridiculous.” The General’s voice was angry and clipped. Aurora could almost see through the door, how his face would be turning more and more the shade of his hair with every passing breath. Moment’s later, Aurora jumped when she heard the tell tale sound of the general’s body hitting the door with unbelievable force. 

     “This ship won’t be the only thing I tear to pieces if you don’t watch yourself,” Kylo Ren said in his modulated voice. Aurora listened to his heavy footsteps go away from the door and waited for the general to get up and enter his office. Phasma stood up quickly and brought herself to attention as if the posture would keep her safe from the General’s anger sparked by the knowledge that she had witnessed, at least in part, his humiliation at the hands of Kylo Ren. 

     Aurora waited for a few moments nervously. She had learned the hard way not to rush to help the general unless he was very injured. She’d offer silent help that preserved his dignity during the recovery process. The initial anger needed to dissipate a fraction before she’d truly feel comfortable. 

     The door opened quickly and with a bang as it hit the wall behind it. 

     “Good morning, General,” Aurora said with a warm smile. She found that if she tried to act as if she didn’t know what had transpired, his anger would dispel more quickly. 

     “Good morning, LieutenantCooper,” the General said shortly. “Phasma,” he nodded towards the Captain before wordlessly turning into his side of the office. 

     “Just schedule the meeting for whenever and message me the details. It doesn’t have to be soon.” Plasma nodded towards Aurora and exited the room like she was escaping a Rathtar attack. 

Aurora went to the sink in the refresher to dampen a wash cloth, and picked up the cup of caf. She quietly brought it to the general’s desk, where he now sat uncomfortably looking for something to do to dissipate the awkwardness he always felt when he was forced to be around people that he knew had witnessed his humiliation. He had blood running down his nose. He tried in vain to wipe it away but it only smeared across his face. “Damn it,” he sighed.

     General Hux looked up from his desk when Aurora's presence neared and his eyes softened. “Thank you,” he said quietly when she silently handed him the wash cloth. He held it to his nose and looked skeptically to the cup of caf Aurora held out to him. 

     “Don’t worry,” Aurora chuckled gently. “Your’s was a valiant effort but ultimately, I’m afraid, it was a failure. I’d like to keep you alive, so I remade it.” Aurora smiled and handed him the cup. He took it and took and experimental sip. His eyes closed in bliss. 

     The General couldn’t help but smile at her words and offer her a thank you. “Where is Phasma?” He looked past her into her empty receiving area. 

     “She just came by to schedule a meeting, sir. I’m to message her the details when I’ve reworked your schedule. Maybe tomorrow, sir.” 

     “Tell me it’s not the Stormtroopers,” Hux said with a exasperated sigh. He instinctively pitched the bridge of his nose and winced when a jolt of pain cut through his face. 

      Blessedly, the door knocked and a droid brought in the general’s breakfast. “A little late aren’t you?” Aurora said with a little distaste in her voice. She didn’t like when things were off schedule.

     The General tutted. “Cooper,” he warned jokingly. He had never met another person who was such a stickler for schedules and procedure as he was. Truthfully, watching her get upset over a droid being 30 seconds later than her schedule dictated amused him to no end. 

     Aurora sighed dramatically, “Sir, I just don’t understand how they can’t get the timing right. It perplexes me. Your schedule is very tight and the ship should do their jobs well enough to facilitate the strict following of it. We’re the greatest military this galaxy has ever seen. Surely it can manage to bring its General his breakfast in a timely manner.” She took the tray from the droid and dismissed it tersely before setting it front of her General. 

     Hux took the cloth away from his face and set on the top of his desk. “I’m really not even hungry,” Hux said with a little shrug. “No need to set the cafeteria on fire.” He looked down at the balanced breakfast that he assumed Aurora had designed for him. He wasn’t sure, but he suspected most of his day was orchestrated by her in an attempt to keep him healthy and comfortable. He allowed it while pretending he had no idea that it was so. 

     “Rubbish,” Aurora answered him. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. You don’t think I keep track, but I have eyes all over this ship, sir.” Aurorastole a piece of buttered toast off of his tray, and stuck it into her mouth, earning another small smirk from the General. “Eat your food,” she ordered before going to her desk and sitting down. She nibbled on the toast and pulled her holopad to herself to check her messages and make a note to schedule Phasma’s meeting for tomorrow.

     “Move Ren’s meeting tomorrow to 1500 hours and put Phasma’s in his spot,” the General said over the intercom that connected their desks for communication. She could hear him take a bite of his breakfast. 

     “He’s not going to be pleased by that, sir,” Aurora warned. Kylo Ren was not what anyone would call, flexible, considerate, or even _human_ if you were being honest. Changing the time of a meeting might not seem like something that should derail the young Force user’s attitude, but for Commander Ren, it had the potential for being cataclysmic. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!


End file.
